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As angry mob finish shattering the remains of the iron-bound door, Silverain peered down the long spiral staircase keeping watch as his sorceress mistress channeled the energy for her and him as her familiar to escape. The villagers had never been comfortable with the presence of a magic user in the old mayors manor but it had taken a night of debauchery with several of the (Completely willing) young girls of the village a few nights before that had broken the uneasy truce.

Led by the drunk angry parents the mob had gathered quickly fueled by hate and fear, turning back to his Mistress he watched as the black ash runes hastily smeared on the full length mirror began to glow. His Mistress stepping into the very glass itself slipped now into the astral plane where she could emerge elsewhere unharmed, he moved to follow as they had done in their escapes before placing his hand upon the glass its cold surface rippled like water a when crossbow bolt shatter the jars on the shelf above littering the glass with liquid.
The red glow of the runes twisting and warping arranged themselves into new patterns, the portal's exit now unknown however it was enter or be torn apart by the mob.
He didn't so step than jump...